uses would wonder if there
had been a funeral. The maid followed with two leather bags. As soon as
he had lifted Kitty into his cab she exclaimed:

"My jewel-case! I have forgotten it. It is on the back seat, please. I am
so careless!"

He dashed back, ran his hand along the cushions, and discovered a small
leather bag. When he returned he found the maid and the luggage bestowed
on the front seat, and a place left for him on the back seat beside Kitty
and her flowers.

"Shall we be taking you far out of your way?" she asked sweetly. "I
haven't an idea where the station is. I'm not even sure about the name.
Celine thinks it is East Liberty, but I think it is West Liberty. An odd
name, anyway. It is a Bohemian quarter, perhaps? A district where the law
relaxes a trifle?"

McKann replied grimly that he didn't think the name referred to that kind
of liberty.

"So much the better," sighed Kitty. "I am a Californian; that's the only
part of America I know very well, and out there, when we called a place
Liberty Hill or Liberty Hollow--well, we meant it. You will excuse me if
I'm uncommunicative, won't you? I must not talk in this raw air. My
throat is sensitive after a long program." She lay back in her corner and
closed her eyes.

When the cab rolled down the incline at East Liberty station, the New
York express was whistling in. A porter opened the door. McKann sprang
out, gave him a claim check and his Pullman ticket, and told him to get
his bag at the check-stand and rush it on that train.

Miss Ayrshire, having gathered up her flowers, put out her hand to take
his arm. "Why, it's you!" she exclaimed, as she saw his face in the
light. "What a coincidence!" She made no further move to alight, but sat
smiling as if she had just seated herself in a drawing-room and were
ready for talk and a cup of tea.

McKann caught her arm. "You must hurry, Miss Ayrshire, if you mean to
catch that train. It stops here only a moment. Can you run?"

"Can I run!" she laughed. "Try me!"

As they raced through the tunnel and up the inside stairway, McKann
admitted that he had never before made a dash with feet so quick and sure
stepping out beside him. The white-furred boots chased each other like
lambs at play, the gold stockings flashed like the spokes of a bicycle
wheel in the sun. They reached the door of Miss Ayrshire's state-room
just as the train began to pull out. McKann was ashamed of the way he was
panting, for Kitty's br